


Stay

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Stay, stay, stay<br/>I've been loving you for quite some<br/>Time, time, time<br/>You think that it's funny when I'm<br/>Mad, mad, mad<br/>But I think that it's best if we both stay</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Robert [overcaustically's](http://overcaustically.tumblr.com) birthday. Happy birthday dear. uwu
> 
> Based on Taylor Swift's "Stay Stay Stay."

Chris lays in bed and stares at the ceiling. There's no reason for him to be awake—he doesn't have to pee, he doesn't have any place to be, and no ideas are beating on the inside of his skull. No, it's 6am, and Chris is just inexplicably awake.

Well, maybe not _inexplicably_.

He turns on his side, frowning at the expansive emptiness of his bed. It's never occurred to him just how _big_ his bed is until this moment. For some reason, being up this early gives him a weird sense of clarity.

Well, maybe not _for some reason_.

Groaning, Chris flips back on his back, glaring up in frustration. He should starfish across the whole stupidly big bed. He should make snow angels in his sheets. Instead, he's huddled off to the left side, and why can't he just—he just—

Chris kicks off his comforter and stands up, feeling too agitated to just lay there now that he's far too awake to get back to sleep.

It's dark in the living room, the heavy curtains drawn across the windows, but Chris navigates easily around the furniture, the kind of confident movement that only comes with familiarity in a space. With every step he takes, the discontent he'd felt in bed seems to seep out through the bottoms of his bare feet, turning his aggravated stride into a slow, cautious walk. He skims his palm over the back of his couch as he rounds it, eyes softening when he sees Darren's head pillowed on the arm, a blanket pulled up to his neck.

When he kneels down, he doesn't expect Darren's eyes to already be open.

"You're awake?" Chris whispers, his surprise turning observation into question, and Darren blinks tiredly at him.

"Couldn't sleep," Darren murmurs in reply, and then yawns, pushing himself up and rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. "And I heard you get up, so…"

"I—" Chris starts, then pushes his lips together, his insides a mixture of relief and guilt. "I didn't really expect you to sleep on the couch, you know."

Darren shrugs, pulling the blanket around his shoulders and then patting the space next to him on the couch.

"It's probably better I wasn't anywhere near your legs. I wasn't sure if your violent tendencies would pick up again in the middle of the night."

Chris huffs out an embarrassed laugh. "I don't have violent tendencies."

"Tell that to your phone, babe."

Chris winces at the reminder, rubbing at his forehead as he groans. "That was pretty bad, huh?"

"You threw it at a wall… And shattered the screen. So yeah, maybe like, a _little_ bad." Darren's eyes are warm when he looks at Chris, and Chris curls into his side, closing his eyes. Darren is warm, and Chris didn't know he could miss someone's presence so much when he was _unconscious_ , but apparently he can.

"You could have gone home," Chris says, voicing the fear that's been in the back of his head since he went to bed. That he would wake up and Darren would just be… Gone.

"I'm not that easy to get rid of." Darren sounds fiercely affectionate when he says it, even in his husky, just-woken-up voice, and he presses a kiss to Chris's forehead. Chris wants to say, "Good," or, "Either am I," but he doesn't say anything. He stares at the black screen of TV, and enjoys the warmth of Darren's body and the weight of his arm around Chris's shoulders.

"…we should talk about it, shouldn't we?"

Darren doesn't answer right away, just rubs his hand against Chris's shoulder.

"Probably. Let me piss first." Darren snatches his arm back and bounces from the couch with a lot more energy than someone who looks as tired as he does. Chris lets out an indignant squawk as he falls back against the couch, and then just catches Darren's grin before he bounds off to the bathroom.

It's cold in that way early mornings are cold, and Chris wonders if it'll burn off and leave unseasonal warmth in the afternoon. He wonders how Darren stayed on the couch all night, and wonders what kind of damage it did to his back and neck. He wonders why Darren stayed at all, especially when he has a perfectly good bed at his own apartment. Chris grips his elbows tightly, and takes a deep breath, focusing on that.

No matter what happened last night, Darren had stayed, and he needs to remember that.

"Okay," Darren says, but his voice is weirdly muffled. Chris turns to look at him in confusion, and his jaw immediately drops. "Let's talk."

Darren is wearing a stormtrooper helmet.

Chris gapes at him, and can only assume that Darren is staring back, and then guffaws.

"What are you _doing?_ "

He expects Darren to take off the helmet, to _talk to him_ , but Darren just sits on the couch, turning his head so that Chris is face-to-face with a stormtrooper helmet that he thinks used to be sitting on the shelf in his closet.

"Protecting myself." Darren knocks against the helmet. "Who knows if you might start throwing things again."

"You—" But Chris isn't even sure how to finish the sentence, staring at Darren in complete disbelief. "You're supposed to be taking this seriously!" He accuses, but there's a laugh building in his chest that keeps his words from having any real force.

"I am!" Darren exclaims, and then rests his helmet-clad chin on his hand, giving Chris his full attention. "I am completely serious right now."

"I can't take you seriously when you're wearing that!" Chris laughs, but Darren (and the stormtrooper helmet) just keep staring at him until the laughter just keeps coming. "You are the most… The most _ridiculous_ person I have ever met, what even made you—" Chris leans over, shaking his head and covering his face in his hands.

Then Darren leans his head on Chris's shoulder, and Chris just loses it.

"Chris!" Darren exclaims as Chris folds in half, laughing. "Now who's not taking this seriously?"

"I'm going to _kill you_ , oh my _god!_ "

"Good thing I'm wearing this helmet!"

Chris pushes Darren until he falls back on the couch and fully intends on pulling the stupid helmet off his head, but instead he ends up collapsed on top of his boyfriend, still laughing, and giving a rather weak smack to his chest.

"Next time I'll have to remember the body armor," Darren comments, and Chris snorts.

"Next time we _don't_ talk about a huge fight we had?" Chris accuses, and Darren hums.

"Do you remember what we were fighting about?" Darren asks, and Chris looks up at him (well, at the helmet, this whole situation is still _ridiculous_ ).

"…no," Chris admits, and smiles, and he imagines that Darren is probably smiling too. Darren starts to lean down, and then stops.

"You know, I didn't think of one thing."

"What you'll do if I find a lightsaber?" Chris asks, eyebrows raised, and Darren shakes his head.

"Well, shit, no, but _now_ I am. No, I didn't think of how I can't really kiss you while wearing this." Darren pauses. "Or _eat_."

"Did you get your head stuck or something? Just take it off," Chris says with a laugh.

"Not happening. You might have an arsenal of phones somewhere. I need to protect myself."

"Dork. Protect yourself from this," Chris says, threateningly, and Darren let's out a little shriek as Chris comes closer and… Kisses the helmet right on the mouth.

"You just kissed a stormtrooper helmet. Who's the dork now?" Darren taunts, and Chris puts a hand on each side of the helmet.

"I'm going to go with the dork who's wearing it." He gives a strong tug and it comes off Darren's head easily.

"Damn," Darren says with a pout, and Chris just shakes his head affectionately, before leaning down and kissing Darren again. "Yeah, no," Darren breathes when Chris pulls away. "That helmet was kind of a stupid idea."

Chris thinks about it, about not being able to sleep and all the apprehension and fear and worry, and about how it's all just _gone_ now. How Darren did that, just by putting a helmet on. Chris smiles.

"I don't know. It had it's moments." He smiles, and Darren smiles back. "Do you want to stay for breakfast?" Chris asks, leaning down so he can catch Darren's mouth again. "Maybe lunch? And dinner?" Chris smiles against Darren's mouth. "Maybe breakfast again?"

Darren laughs into his mouth, and Chris closes his eyes as he smiles.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to."

And Chris almost says, "That's a dangerous thing to say." But at the same time, there's a part of him that's sure Darren wouldn't mind, that Darren wants to stay just as much as Chris wants him to.


End file.
